Sohlberg and the Gift Read online

  SOHLBERG AND THE GIFT:

  AN INSPECTOR SOHLBERG MYSTERY

  by

  JENS AMUNDSEN

  Published simultaneously in the USA and Norway.

  Although inspired by real events, this book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any living person is purely coincidental except that specific references to real institutions and people (such as the late Ottis Toole and the serial killer known as The Falconer) are for historical purposes only.

  SOHLBERG AND THE GIFT: an Inspector Sohlberg mystery.

  A Vik Crime/Blue Salamander Edition 2012

  Published in the United States by special arrangement of Nynorsk Forlag [Trondheim, Norway] with Nynorsk Forlag-USA/Blue Salamander [Seattle, WA].

  SOHLBERG AND THE GIFT. Copyright (c) 2012 by Nynorsk Forlag.

  Translation copyright (c) 2012 by Nynorsk Forlag.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taking, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher.

  An electronic format of this book has been specially priced to introduce readers to the best of Nordic literature dealing with crime, the criminal mind, the criminal justice system, and Scandinavian society.

  FIRST U.S. EDITION.

  Author and book information:

  www.deadlybooks.com

  www.jensamundsen.blogspot.com

  Publisher information:

  www.nynorskforlag.blogspot.com

  Please send publisher and author inquiries to: [email protected]

  Printed and Manufactured in the United States of America

  Also by Jens Amundsen

  [Inspector Sohlberg series]

  Sohlberg and the Missing Schoolboy

  White Death in Tromsø

  Lost in Bergen

  Skull Valley

  The Trondheim Choir

  ADVANCE REVIEWS FOR THE

  INSPECTOR SOHLBERG SERIES

  BY JENS AMUNDSEN

  Inspector Sohlberg crime novels are thoroughly enjoyable police procedurals because they are suspenseful and realistic. Like John Le Carré, who captures the essence of spying, Jens Amundsen captures the essence of criminal investigations by police detectives. He also paints an honest and unvarnished portrait of Scandinavian society that is troubling because it will remind readers of their own countries.

  — Alan Meade (U.S.A.)

  Part murder mystery, part psychological novel Jens Amundsen’s novels deliver a unique voice that takes Nordic Noir to a higher level. What could be better than a juicy and thoughtful detective novel?

  — Elise Palme (Sweden)

  This fascinating homicide detective is brought to life by an accomplished author who’s no stranger to crime, criminals, homicide investigations, and the justice system.

  — Lars Ødegård (Norway)

  Compelling detective stories without page-filling fluff . . . language stripped to its bare essentials . . . real-life dialogue . . . each novel a psychological tour de force . . . Cormac McCarthy’s No Country for Old Men meets Georges Simenon’s Inspector Maigret meets Jim Thompson’s The Killer Inside Me.

  — Tim Hughes (U.S.A.)

  Jens Amundsen’s crime novels are a compendium of the human condition . . . dealing with the difficult but important issues of life and death.

  — Tatiana Defforey (Great Britain)

  To his credit, Amundsen writes in a unique and captivating style that requires more than a 3rd grade reading level. I appreciate Amundsen and other authors who don’t dilute police procedurals with irrelevant literary devices, such as “character development”. Who would want Raymond Chandler’s Marlowe to develop? For Heaven’s sake, police procedurals are a sub-genre of crime and suspense novels. If you want artsy literary fiction, then get thee to Austen, Brontë, Cheever, Flaubert, Franzen, Hemingway, or Turgenev.

  — Elizabeth Brennan (U.S.A.)

  ABOUT THE BOOK

  Sohlberg and the Gift is about murder and the worst of betrayals.

  It’s Christmas and Inspector Harald Sohlberg risks losing his recent promotion to Chief Inspector of the Oslo politidistrikt. Why? Because of a recent visit from a mysterious female—Astrid Isaksen. Her visit triggers a chain reaction of events that exposes the worst of betrayals. Because the greatest betrayal is from those closest to you.

  Chief Inspector Sohlberg breaks into sealed court files. He sneaks into an insane asylum under false pretenses and likewise trespasses into the high-security mountain fortress holding the National Archives of the Norwegian government. He intervenes in another detective’s “open-and-shut” case.

  The level-headed Sohlberg violates department protocol for his young visitor. Could the happily married detective be cheating on his wife? Even the straight arrow can bend or break.

  C.I. Sohlberg puts himself at risk of getting disciplined or fired. Has he been duped into playing the part of an unsuspecting pawn? Regardless, he must take the blame and the inevitable fall from grace if he gets caught.

  It’s Christmas: a season of hope and redemption and gift-buying and parties and vacations. It’s certainly not the best time for Chief Inspector Sohlberg to investigate a homicide case that is full of dead ends and not even his to investigate. After all, the case is considered “closed” and “over and done with” at the highest levels of the Norwegian Police Service.

  ABOUT THE HARALD SOHLBERG MYSTERY SERIES

  The Inspector Sohlberg crime novels by Jens Amundsen join Scandinavia’s best crime detective series, including the Inspector Wallander series by Henning Mankell, Inspector Sejer series by Karin Fossum, Inspector Gunnarstranda series by K. O. Dahl, Detective Harry Hole series by Jo Nesbø, and Girl With Millenium trilogy by Stieg Larsson.

  Jens Amundsen’s publisher, Nynorsk Forlag, is pleased to present his novels on Chief Inspector Harald Sohlberg. The Sohlberg novels masterfully blend the psychological novel into the crime, suspense, thriller, and detective genre.

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to my wife who courageously stood up to her own family’s awful betrayals.

  This book is also dedicated to Torbjørn Aas, Benedicte Bjørnland, Håvard Gåsbakk, Geir Gudmundsen, Guttorm Hagen, Ellen Katrine Hætta, Jon Steven Hasseldal, Brian Jacobsen, Odd Tveit Jørgensen, Dag Rune Omland, Anne Rygh Pedersen, Hanne Kristin Rohde, Kaare Songstad, and other honorable members of Norway’s Police Service who pursue justice in the most difficult of circumstances.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  The police officers listed above have not provided any of the information mentioned in this book. Information about criminal cases and law firms and the PST (Norway’s FBI) have been provided by other sources.

  The political party mentioned in the book could just as well have been any other liberal or conservative party in any country.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  Sohlberg and the Gift came off the press in 2005 as a limited edition publication with extensive original artwork by the author. The book was more of a graphic novel and a “prequel” to the Inspector Sohlberg series. It was not until 2011 that our editors began to prepare the newly re-written and expanded edition for publication as a text-only crime novel.

  The first edition of Sohlberg and the Gift was written six years before Anders Behring Breivik killed 77 people in his anti-Muslim, anti-immigrant shooting and bomb rampage of July 2011. We are pleased to present a book that takes an unflinching look at how easily judges, prosecutors, and defense lawyers manipulate insanity pleas in criminal trials. The author also tackles head-on the issue of immigrants and radical Islam, which divide Norway and other countries.

/>   PART ONE: PROMISES TO KEEP

  Prologue

  Chapter 1/Én

  MORNING OF THE DAY, TUESDAY, DECEMBER 2

  Chapter 2/To

  AFTERNOON AND EVENING OF THE DAY,

  TUESDAY, DECEMBER 2

  Chapter 3/Tre

  WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 3, OR ONE DAY

  AFTER THE DAY DECEMBER 2

  Chapter 4/Fire

  FRIDAY, DECEMBER 5, OR

  THREE DAYS AFTER THE DAY

  Chapter 5/Fem

  SATURDAY, DECEMBER 6, OR

  FOUR DAYS AFTER THE DAY

  Chapter 6/Seks

  SUNDAY, DECEMBER 7, OR

  FIVE DAYS AFTER THE DAY

  PART TWO: OUR DAILY ROUTINE

  Chapter 7/Syv

  MONDAY, DECEMBER 8, OR

  SIX DAYS AFTER THE DAY

  Chapter 8/Åtte

  TUESDAY, DECEMBER 9, OR

  SEVEN DAYS AFTER THE DAY

  Chapter 9/Ni

  WEDNESDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 10,

  OR EIGHT DAYS AFTER THE DAY

  PART THREE: THE RABBIT HOLE

  Chapter 10/Ti

  WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON, DECEMBER 10,

  OR EIGHT DAYS AFTER THE DAY

  Chapter 11/Elleve

  THURSDAY, DECEMBER 11,

  OR NINE DAYS AFTER THE DAY

  Chapter 12/Tolv

  FRIDAY, DECEMBER 12,

  OR TEN DAYS AFTER THE DAY

  Chapter 13/Tretten

  SATURDAY, DECEMBER 13,

  SAINT LUCIA’S DAY, LUCIADAGEN;

  AND, LUSSINATT, ST. LUCIA NIGHT;

  OR ELEVEN DAYS AFTER THE DAY

  Chapter 14/Fjorten

  SUNDAY, DECEMBER 14,

  OR TWELVE DAYS AFTER THE DAY

  Chapter 15/Femten

  MORNING OF MONDAY, DECEMBER 15,

  OR THIRTEEN DAYS AFTER THE DAY

  Chapter 16/Skesten

  AFTERNOON AND EVENING OF MONDAY,

  DECEMBER 15, OR THIRTEEN DAYS

  AFTER THE DAY

  Chapter 17/Sytten

  THE KNOWN AND THE UNKNOWN

  PART ONE: PROMISES TO KEEP

  The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

  But I have promises to keep . . .

  And miles to go before I sleep.

  — Robert Frost [Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, 1923]

  Any man who is going to get rich can’t obey the rules all the time.

  — Howard Hughes, Texas tycoon [1905 – 1976]

  Prologue

  Mist. Fog. Nothingness. The world dissolved. Chemical nirvana. A rainbow river of pills. Blue. Red. Yellow. Pink. White. The blue is the worst. It’s called The Hammer. One hour to go before The Hammer does its deed. One hour.

  How can you save your life by writing down a few words during that precious hour?

  A one-page letter. One hour. One page. ALL must be put down on the lined paper. The basic essentials of my predicament must be written down. ALL must be expressed. Succinctly. Brief and to the point. And in the most interesting manner.

  I must be tantalizing.

  Is that a word?

  I’m forgetting words. I used to be a poet. A singer songwriter. A troubadour.

  The envelope and the stamp. The address. Yes. They are all in fine working order. It’s taken days and days to get them ready. All has been prepared for this day. This hour. This letter. My passport to freedom. My baby. I’m writing her a letter. Lonely days will be gone. And I’ll be going home.

  A sentence. Then another. A paragraph?

  The music floats into the air. The Letter. Joe Cocker singing.

  The pills float all around. A galaxy of shapes. Round. Oblong. Triangular.

  Blue. Red. Yellow. Pink. White.

  Will blue win today?

  The Hammer thinks so. The Hammer says so.

  So much to say. So little time left.

  The poet Neruda: Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

  Long ago a poster with the poet’s words once graced my bedroom wall. The Pablo Neruda poster. My hip hippie days. Pretending to be a poet. A long time ago. Long gone. Love is short. Forgetting so long—an eternity.

  Write the saddest lines. Thus saith the poet Neruda.

  Do it.

  Just do it.

  The winged goddess. I hear the shuffle of her wings.

  Nike of Love. Nike of Death.

  My baby. I’ve got to get back to her. The insanity of my endeavor. Save my life so I can find The One and slice her beating heart out of her ribcage.

  I will not be denied.

  There will be blood.

  There must be blood.

  The music notes float up in the air with the pills. They mate and merge and the notes fly about in red and white and blue and pink and yellow. A whirlpool of whole notes and half notes and quarter notes. Flats and sharps shoot out everywhere like sparkling stars. The thirty-second notes and sixty-fourth notes leap about like wild horses running with their manes streaming in the air.

  I tried to end it all. But I remember everything.

  Long ago an old guitar from a pawn shop graced a wall by my bed. The guitar under the Pablo Neruda poster. My hip hippie days. Pretending to be a poet and a singer songwriter after I came back from my high school’s exchange program with that nice family in Nashville. After the USA I wanted to be a troubadour. An outlaw. A Johnny Cash.

  Hurt.

  I am hurt. I will hurt.

  The pain. It’s all I got.

  The Hammer begins to obliterate everything little by little. A memory here. A memory there.

  The One. Everything begins and ends with her. My alpha. My omega.

  I will make her hurt.

  There will be blood.

  There must be blood.

  Janne here I come.

  There will be blood.

  There must be blood.

  When the winter winds blow

  And the snow begins to fall.

  There will be blood.

  There must be blood.

  Janne I've been so blue

  Since I've been away from you.

  There will be blood.

  There must be blood.

  I can't wait to get going.

  Janne! Here I Come.

  Right back where I started from.

  That last night. Our last. So promising. Meeting at the abandoned warehouse on Midsummer’s Eve. Crumbling walls crusted with mold. Exposed brick. Shafts of half-light falling through rips on the rooftop. Stains dark and brooding everywhere. Filth smeared everywhere. Floors covered with debris large and small. Doorless doorways opened to more doorless doorways.

  Janne laughs. How would you like those two.

  She points at two women nearby. Kissing. They open their blouses and keep fondling and open-mouth kissing each other.

  She laughs and points. I want to see you and those two.

  You like to see.

  Yes. I like to see. A woman can like to see. I first want to see you with these two.

  A threesome.

  Three comes before four.

  A foursome.

  Stop talking. Take them here. Now. Three now. Four later.

  The two women stop their devouring and move towards me. The Unrebuked Devourer and his night spawn grasp me. My belt unbuckles. We moan and writhe.